A Peek Into the Mind of Flynn Rider
by musicprincess1990
Summary: A series of one-shots about what I think is going through Flynn/Eugene's head throughout the course of the movie. T for language. EDITED AND REPOSTED! :D
1. The Tower

Disclaimer: I do not own Tangled. Or Flynn Rider. Cue the heart-wrenching sobs and the waterfall of tears. :'(

Recently edited!

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><p>My jaw drops as my eyes travel up the lofty and clearly unsound architecture. It stand at the base of a waterfall, surrounded by treacherous cliffs and a glow of fairytale-ish mystery. The Eugene side of my mind flits back several years, to the days of my childhood. Back then, I read countless stories of swashbuckling pirates, daring adventures, and princesses locked away in towers. Could <em>this<em> be such a tower, with an eagerly awaiting damsel in distress?

Flynn Rider quickly shoots down that idea. There's no such things as fairytales. But this tower provides the _perfect_ hiding place.

Grinning in self-satisfaction at my own audacity, I retrieve two arrows were aimed at me moments ago, and use them to scale to the top of this strange, yet inviting tower. After what seems like hours, I make it to the top, arrows and satchel in hand, and a sharp pain developing in my back and shoulders. Nevertheless, I felt at ease. There is _no way_ the guards will find me here.

I glance around at my surprisingly welcoming surroundings, checking for any possible intruders (other than myself, of course). Then I turn my attention to the satchel hanging from my shoulder. Lifting the flap, I smile widely at its shining contents, and heave a sigh.

"Alone at last," I mumble fondly toward my spoils. I lift a hand to reach into the bag, intent on lifting the glittering crown from its resting place.

Then, with a loud clang and a sudden, sharp blow to the back of my head, the world disappears into blackness.

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><p><em>Where am I?<em> I think to myself. _Why am I on the floor? Whose floor? What just happened?_ Memories flash across my mind. Stealing the crown from the castle; running through the forest with the Brothers; running off with the crown and trying to escape the guards; coming across the tower...

Oh, yes.

I'm in the tower. That leaves only one question unanswered: why am I on the floor?

The answer rings like a bell in my mind, and I gasp inwardly. _There's someone else there_. I open my eyes, hoping to find this person. However, they must have been watching me, ready for when I woke up. No sooner do I allow my vision to take in the tower once again, than I feel a familiar pain in my head, and fall into the abyss once again.

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><p><em>There is something <em>wet_ in my _ear_._

"GAH!"

There is a loud, high-pitched squeak to my left, but I ignore it. I have far more pressing matters on my mind than to figure out what the squeak was. Like the fact that I'm tied to a chair in the center of the room, still in that blasted tower. If I'd known it was going to be so much trouble...

Wait.

Whatever's holding me down isn't rope.

In fact, it looks like...

"Is this... hair?" I wonder aloud, feeling more and more freaked out by the second.

"Struggling is pointless," a shaky, feminine voice calls out from somewhere within the room. It sounds like it's coming from above me. I lift my eyes to the beams holding the roof up, and sure enough, I can see the silhouetted form of... well, I don't know who. The person hops down to the floor, still hidden in the shadows. I follow her every movement, my extra-sharp thief-senses kicked into overdrive. Who is this chick? Why did she tie me to a chair? And _where_, in the name of heaven and earth, did she get the _hair_ to do it with?

"I know why you're here," she says suddenly, "and I'm not afraid of you!"

Um. That was weird. "What?" This is getting ridiculous. I squint, hoping to see through the darkness, but to no avail. However, my efforts aren't _totally_ fruitless; right at that moment, the figure takes three determined steps forward, exposing herself to me.

As the light washes over her, my breath catches in my chest. Standing before me is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life. My eyes widen, and I feel my mouth hanging open, as I take in every inch of her, bottom to top.

A pair of surprisingly adorable bare feet stick out from beneath the hem of a lavender skirt, which is, no doubt, hiding a pair of killer legs. The skirt disappears into a tightly-fitted bodice, hugging some positively sinful curves, the sight of which makes my mouth go dry.

It's at that moment that I notice the thick, golden hair that flows down her back... and around the room... and holds me captive. _Holy crap._ That's not creepy at all. Not in the slightest.

Forcing myself to ignore this new information, I will my eyes to continue their exploration. They travel past the slender, delicate arms, which hold up a frying pan (_that must be what she hit me with!_), to the tantalizingly low, yet surprisingly innocent neckline, trailing up the side of her long, elegant neck. They pause, momentarily, at the full, pink, slightly pursed lips, before roving over the smooth, rosy cheeks, cute button nose, and then stopping at the pair of striking, emerald green eyes, narrowed in suspicion.

"Who are you?" she asks. My eyes fly back to her lips as she speaks, and I become mesmerized by their movement. "And how did you find me?"

I don't fully register her words. That, combined with my mounting interest in her mouth, makes me give what has to be the most senseless, and most embarrassing reply I've ever given:

"Uh-huh..."

Doh.

Brilliant, Rider. Way to kill the ladies with your dazzling charm and fiery wit.

Her eyebrows pull together, and she raises the frying pan, prepared to strike if need be. That catches my attention a little bit. "Who are you, and how did you find me?" she repeats firmly.

It takes me a moment to remember how to speak. Eventually, though, the trusty Flynn Rider takes over, displaying a magnificent performance.

I clear my throat, and in my Shakespeare-voice, say, "I know not who you are, nor how I came to find you," I let my eyes close, "but may I just say..." I open my eyes, letting the false vulnerability shine through them for a moment, before quickly switching into rogue-mode. "Hi," I finish in a husky growl, coupling it with my best smirk.

And then, something happens, something that I never, _ever_ would have expected from such a lovely and innocent-looking young female.

She _frowns_.

Determined not to be fazed by this, I continue. "How ya doin'?" I ask in the same flirtatious drawl. "The name's Flynn Rider. How's your day going?"

Unfortunately, she doesn't fall for it. Don't get me wrong, I've met girls that haven't instantly succumbed to my unfailing charm and gorgeous smile. However, these girls were either already married, or were tomboys that had seen and heard enough from the male sex to not be fooled by it. But this girl is different. Though her girlish sweetness and naïveté radiate from her, she's also no simpering bimbo. She can take care of herself. As evidenced by the frying pan she still holds in her hands, and the two lumps on the back of my skull.

The girl scoffs and extends the pan in my direction. I lean back as far as I can without the chair falling over. "Who else knows I'm here, _Flynn Rider_?"

She says the name with such... distaste? Disdain? I can't tell, but whatever it is, it doesn't sound good. And Eugene finds himself feeling terrified for his life. But Flynn pushes that fear aside.

"All right, Blondie—"

"Rapunzel," she interrupts me.

Is that her_ name_? Oy vey, her mother is a _very_ cruel woman! "Gezundheit," I offer. "Here's the deal," I begin my explanation, keeping my expression carefully blank. "I was in a situation, gallivanting through the forest. I came across your tower, and fi—" I stop mid-word and panic shoots through me as I finally realize that something's missing. "Oh no! _Where_ is my satchel?"

She smirks, leaning back and folding her arms. "I've hidden it," she announces proudly. "Somewhere you'll _never_ find it."

I lift an eyebrow. This girl _grossly_ underestimates my ability to find things that don't want to be found. It only takes me a few moments of looking around, and I know exactly where it is. "It's in that pot, isn't it?"

Her face falls. Next thing I know...

_CLANG!_

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><p>AN: Please leave a review!


	2. The Smolder

A/N: Recently edited and put in movie order. Enjoy!

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><p>"Let me just get this straight," I say quickly, still having a hard time with everything that's happening. For one, I'm tied to a chair. And what's tying me down is roughly seventy feet of <em>hair<em>. Freaky. Also, the owner of said hair is looking me straight in the eye, telling me she wants me to take her to see the floating lanterns in the kingdom.

Ugh.

But anyways, she's waiting for me to continue.

"I take you to see the lanterns, bring you back home, and you'll give me back my satchel?" I ask, looking at her.

"I _promise_," she says firmly. This girl is too much. I put on a thoroughly unconvinced expression. "And when I promise something, I _never_ break that promise." At that, I lift a single eyebrow. "_Ever_," she adds, and the frog nods.

This girl just isn't going to give up, is she?

Well... we'll just see about that.

"Listen, I didn't want to have to do this—" actually, I don't really care, "—but you leave me no choice. Here comes The Smolder." I lower my head, preparing myself for her inevitable demise, and turn on my signature expression in full force.

AND SHE DOES NOTHING!

Wait... is she... yep, she's going to!—nope. Not gonna crack. _Damn_.

"This is kind of an off day for me, this doesn't usually happen," I mutter through puckered lips. "Fine!" I half-shout, pulling myself out of The Smolder. "I'll take you to see the lanterns."

"Really?" she gasps excitedly, letting go of the chair—which, by the way, _she_ was the one holding it up. As you can imagine, gravity intervenes, and I fall.

FORWARD.

Landing on my beautiful face.

"You broke my smolder!" I groan.

This girl will be the death of me.

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><p>AN: Holy foreshadowing, Batman... :P Review, please!


	3. The Pub

A/N: Recently edited and reposted!

ME: (dreaming) Aha! I've got you now, Flynn Rider! I own you!

FLYNN: Um. No, you don't.

ME: (losing confidence) Y-yes, yes I do!

FLYNN: Nope.

ME: Gah! Stop saying no! I own everyth— (wakes up suddenly) Aw, man!

Moral of the story: I own nothing. Now enjoy! :D

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><p><em>This is NOT happening.<em>

Oh, but it is.

Currently, I'm in a pub—the Snuggly Duckling to be exact—hanging by my vest from a protruding nail. I'm surrounded by a band of thugs of various shapes, sizes, and smells, who are currently dancing and singing about their dreams. Yes, you read that right. Their _dreams_. And Blondie's listening intently to every single one of them.

The guy with the hook wants to play the piano.

The really ugly one wants to fall in love.

Another pull cupcakes out of the oven, while another still knits a sock. Or a scarf. Or... I have no idea what he's knitting, but it just looks _wrong_.

Suddenly, they all turn on me. "What about you?" Hook-Hand growls.

Say what? "I'm sorry, me?"

Ugly then lifts me off the nail, then sets me on the floor. "What's _your_ dream?"

Oh, for the love of all that's holy, are they _serious_? "No, no, no," I say, trying to remain calm and detached. "Sorry, boys," I continue, folding my arms and lifting my chin. "I don't sing."

And just like that, about twenty swords are pointed directly at my head.

I hop onto a table and dance around like a buffoon, singing about my dream of owning an island someday. Though I can tell they don't exactly approve of my dream (hence the grabbing me by the arms and legs and then proceeding to _pull_), they seem satisfied that I've at least taken part in the song. Once I finish, they set me on my feet again.

That's when Rapunzel starts in. I turn my attention to her, absolutely amazed. How can this girl, this _teenager_, have the power to touch the hearts of two dozen or so thugs and criminals, simply by saying, "I've got a dream"?

I lean against a nearby barrel, shaking my head at the spectacle. A brief flash of movement makes me jump a little, and I frown at the goat standing serenely on top of one of the other barrels, chewing away at... something. _That had better not be my hair_, I think menacingly.

Suddenly, someone grabs me by the shirt and lifts me up. They set me on the floor, and across the room, the biggest thug in the place smirks at me. Then he stomps hard on the floor, and I let out a yelp as the floorboard shoots up, thus sending me flying through the air, head down. I stick my arms out in protection, surprising myself when my hands close around the massive horns protruding from the thug's helmet. Just when I'm about to heave a sigh of relief for not being injured, he moves his head and tosses me to the side. I land on my feet... but not on solid ground. Oh, no. It's a _barrel_, and I'm forced to take step after step _backwards_, in order to keep moving _forward_. To top it off, the jerks around me are juggling lit _torches_ right in my path! Sheesh! Do they _want_ to kill me?

...

Don't answer that.

Finally, I manage to hop off the barrel before I run into the wall, and take a few steps to my left before turning around. Good thing, too, because right then, Ugly does a back-hand spring (or something like that), headed straight for me. I duck just in time, and he flies through the window just behind me.

None of the others, even Blondie, notice my many near-death experiences, for they are _still_ too busy singing and dancing. Two of the thugs lift Blondie onto a table as their ridiculous tune draws to its close, and with one excited, "Yeah!" it finally ends.

Ugh. Babysitting Blondie is proving to be _extremely_ stressful.

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><p>AN: Review!


	4. The Tunnel

I don't like the look of this. Right now, I'm trapped in a tunnel with Blondie, and the water from the recently collapsed dam is rising far too quickly for my taste.

No! I refuse to die like this!

I dive into the water, hoping to find some crevice or passageway that was previously missed, but all I'm met with is darkness. What is it with water that it makes it that much more difficult to see? I mean, not that it's sunlight and rainbows _above_ the water now, either. I can barely see anything when I'm _not_ swimming. But do I have to be totally blind when I _am_? Sheesh! Fate, why must you be so cruel to me?

I try a few times to find an escape, but with no luck whatsoever. Then I abandon the swimming and start to help Blondie's attempts to move the rocks above the surface. Unfortunately, they're stuck tight. So tight that, while trying to remove one rock in particular, I get a massive cut in the palm of my left hand. I gasp and wrap my good hand around the wrist of my newly injured one. The sting is rather strong, but I don't have time to be a wimp. I've experienced worse pains than this, and gotten out of worse situations. I can _definitely_ get out of here.

...

Can't I?

With another great intake of breath, I dive back into the water—which is twice as high as it was about thirty seconds ago—and meet the same results: black.

Apparently, I _will_ die like this.

(Insert curse word here.)

"It's no use," I groan, wiping the water from my eyes. "I can't see anything."

Blondie frowns, then she, herself, takes a dive. Oh, of all the—_gah!_ I follow her, pulling her back up to the surface. "Hey," I say as calmly as possible, "There's no point. It's pitch black down there."

She seems angry with me for a moment, but then, her irritation melts into fear and despair. She presses her back against the rock wall, the water now reaching both our chests. I sigh, trying not to let myself fall into depression. Yes, I'm going to die. But I always figured I would die young. Not quite _this_ young, but still.

I just wish I could've gotten that crown back. Maybe then, I'd feel like I'd achieved something, enough to justify my untimely death.

Ah, well, beggars can't be choosers. And I've been a beggar all my life.

"This is all my fault," Blondie whispered suddenly. Yeah, it kind of was. Not that I'd ever tell her that. We both have literally minutes to live. Not the kind of thing you want to hear at that time.

"She was right, I never should have done this." That was weird. Did she mean her mother? Most likely. I don't know what to say to that, so I continue staring at the still-rising water, just waiting for the inevitable.

"I'm so—" she begins, but pauses a moment before finishing her sentence. When she does, I understand why she stopped; her voice is thick and raw with emotion as she says, "I'm so sorry, Flynn."

The anguish in her voice is enough to get me to look at her. As I do, she bursts into tears, lifting a clenched fist to her face. My heart breaks with an emotion I haven't felt in years: sympathy. This happy, vibrant, remarkable girl is going to die on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, having only seen the worst parts of the world. She has so much to live for, and now, she isn't going to see any of it.

And it's _my_ fault.

If I hadn't been such a prick and taken her to a place filled with thugs, hoping that she'd get scared and want to go home, none of this would have happened. We never would have been chased through that other tunnel, never would have fought at the mill, never would have been here, staring death in the face.

But, being the arrogant, pig-headed Flynn Rider, I can't seem to find it within me to tell her she's wrong. It's not her fault. However, I also can't let her last moments be filled with sorrow.

"Eugene," I blurt without thinking.

She looks at me. "What?"

I give her a little smile. "My real name is Eugene Fitzherbert," I admit, feeling a blush of embarrassment creep to my cheeks. The hideously humiliating name I haven't spoken for nearly ten years now, I've just told to the most unlikely person on the planet. Oh well. "Someone might as well know," I shrug.

It does the trick. She smiles at me, and I feel a little warmer knowing she's not going to die _completely_ unhappy.

Then, she says, "I have magic hair that glows when I sing."

_What?_ "What?" I repeat my thought aloud.

Okay, seriously, all I did was tell her my real name. She didn't need to drop a bomb like that literally _seconds_ before . . . aw, man, now I'm gonna die terrified!

Something seems to click inside her brain as she repeats her sentence slowly. I don't get it at first. I'm a little preoccupied with the water that is now to my chin. For some reason I don't understand, she tilts her head back, and begins to sing, then takes a gigantic breath. I do the same, wanting enough time to at least see this hair. Or do I really want that? Well, I'm getting it.

Moments later, a bright, yellowy light fills the space. And IT'S COMING FROM HER HAIR! I let out a scream, which causes several bubbles of air to escape and float upward to the now nonexistent surface. I cover my mouth with my hand, and just stare in awe at the outrageous sight before me. I watch as that freaky glow spreads down along her hair, and then my eyes stop at a spot where her hair seems to be flowing with a current. There's a little hole in the rocks there! WE'RE GOING TO LIVE!

We both swim toward it, and start pulling the—thank heaven!—loose rocks away, until at last, my hand breaks through the wall, and I feel the breeze billowing around it. I flounder around for another rock to move, knowing I'm going to run out of my temporary oxygen soon. Just in time, I find the right rock to move, and the whole wall comes tumbling down. I retract my hand before it gets flattened, and I grab hold of Blondie, so she doesn't get lost in the current. I close my eyes and pull her close, and we let the water carry us to safety.

At last, we reach the bank of the river, and collapse onto the beautiful ground, coughing and gasping for air. Ah, sweet, life-giving oxygen! So beautiful!

"We made it," she breathes.

And just like that, I remember _why_ we're not dead, and I lose it.

"Her hair glows!" I mumble.

"We're alive!" she says, more excitedly, then she stands up. "I'm alive!"

I brush my hand through my dripping hair. "I didn't see that coming," I mutter to no one in particular.

"Eugene," she says my name, and I cringe a little bit. I shouldn't have told her.

I spot the frog, and I continue ranting to him. "The hair actually glows!" I say. "Why does her hair glow?"

"Eugene!"

"WHAT?" I ask in a strangled, panicked shout.

She wrings out a section of her hair. "It doesn't just glow," she says matter-of-factly, with a slight smile.

No. That's too much. What else can hair _possibly_do? I glance down at the frog, as if he can answer my unasked question. He's giving me this little mischievous smirk that kind of freaks me out. I look back at Blondie, eyes wide with fear.

"Why is he smiling at me?"


	5. Falling

Disclaimer: Tangled belongs to Disney, Eugene belongs to Rapunzel, and I own the massive amounts of lint in my jean pockets.

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><p>I could deny it outwardly all I wanted, but there's absolutely no lying to myself.<p>

I am _terrified_.

Wouldn't you be, too, if the girl who you'd recently rescued from a tower (after her hitting you in the head with a frying pan several times) told you in the face of death that she had _magic hair that glows when she sings_? Then she proceeded to _use_ said hair to get the two of you _out_ of the face of death, and was now wrapping it around your hand, which, by the way, has a massive cut in the middle of it!

Sorry. I'm just a little wigged out here.

In an attempt to relieve the sudden tension, I decide it would be best if I actually say something to her. "So," I begin, sitting up a little straighter. "You're being strangely cryptic as you wrap your magic hair around my injured hand."

Blondie glances up at me, and in the process, her finger grazes the cut. I wince and hiss out a breath as pain shoots up my arm. She winces with me, then meets my gaze apologetically. "Sorry," she says, then she lets out a sigh. "Just... don't... don't freak out."

I might have laughed if I wasn't already internally doing _just_ what she'd asked me not to do. "Don't freak out"? Ha! Too late. However, instead of letting her know, I just stare at her, wide-eyed, waiting for her to explain. She sighs again, then starts to sing. "Flower gleam and glow . . ."

I can't tell you exactly what the rest of the words are, for that's the exact moment that every single strand of golden hair begins to do her bidding. The glow spreads slowly from the roots, gliding along the length—the extremely massive length—of her hair, which surrounds us and the little fire that I built a few minutes ago. As the light reaches the frog—er, chameleon—he smiles that same creepy smile he was wearing earlier. Then he lifts his... hand? Paw? Thing? And he points to it, and I understand, _how_, I don't know, that I'm supposed to look at my own hand. Hesitantly, I let my eyes wander back to my injured appendage.

The hair that's wrapped around my hand shines brightly, and I feel a strange tingling spread through my hand, touching each one of my fingers. Then it's pulled toward the center, and I swear the cut itself is glowing. I think now is a _great_ time to avert my eyes. I look up at Rapunzel, but her eyes are closed, as she gets lost in the song she sings. So I turn back to the frog—chameleon!—who simply smiles and nods his head once. Whatever _that_ means.

Just then, Rapunzel stops singing, and I look at her once again. She opens her eyes slowly, looking up at me from behind dark lashes, waiting for my reaction. With much trepidation, I lift my hand, and slowly unravel the hair from around it. My heart stops at the sight that greets me, and I let out a quiet whimper as I examine my hand more closely, then show it to her. The cut is completely _gone_. Not even a scar to remind me of its presence.

This is _so_ not right.

Hair should _not_ be able to heal a cut!

Hair shouldn't be able to do _anything_ except keep your head warm and look good!

BLONDIE, I'M FREAKING OUT!

I inhale deeply, ready to scream bloody murder, but I'm interrupted.

"Please don't freak out!" Rapunzel says in a rush, her hands lifted apprehensively, and her face contorted into one of anxiety. The scream I've built in my throat tries to make its way out, but I do my best to block it. All that comes out is what sounds like a strangled wheeze.

That's attractive.

"I'm not freaking out, are you freaking out?" I say in a pained voice, speaking very quickly. I fold my arms, tucking each hand tightly under them. "No, I'm just very interested in your hair and the magical qualities it possesses!" I force a smile in her direction. "How long has it been doing that, exactly?"

"Uh... forever, I guess?" she offers with a shy smile.

Somebody pinch me.

This cannot be real.

I'm sitting with a girl who's had _magic hair_ for her _entire life_.

I'm going to cry.

No I'm not! Flynn Rider _does not cry!_ Pretend I didn't say that!

Whether I did say that or not, I never get the chance to go through with it. Blondie keeps talking, telling me about her hair.

"Mother says when I was a baby, people wanted to try and cut it. They wanted it for themselves." She reaches a hand behind her head, moving her long hair away from her neck, revealing one short tuft of brown. "But once it's cut, it turns brown and loses its power." She lets her hair fall back into place, and then starts running her fingers through it. "A gift like that... it has to be protected. That's why mother never let me..." She pauses, letting out a sigh. "That's why I never left."

I can't believe what she's just told me. Oh, the magic hair part is bad enough, but that last sentence? That's almost enough to do me in. I'm not... "freaked out" any more, and in fact, I'm kind of tired of hearing that phrase, even in my mind. Now, I'm just confused.

"You never left that tower," I wonder aloud. She turns embarrassed eyes back to me, and my frown deepens. "And you're still gonna go back?"

"No!" she insists, but then seems to rethink it. "Yes?" she says uncertainly, then she lets out _yet another_ sigh, and her head falls into her hands. "It's complicated," she adds despairingly.

For the second time today, I feel sympathy for someone. Strange. I find myself wanting to _comfort_ this naïve, overly-happy girl sitting before me. Just a few hours ago, I found her exuberance highly irritating. I just wanted to get to the kingdom, show her the stupid lanterns, then get out before any of the guards spotted me. But _no_, she just _had_ to stop to admire every flower, bush, tree, and animal we passed. Then there was that whole bipolar montage. Very annoying.

But now, seeing her so upset... it's almost _worse_ than the over-excited child that she usually is. You can't call her immature, really. She's just... sheltered. She wants to make the most of every single moment she spends out of her tower, because let's face it, she might never get out again. Judging by what she just told me, her mother was very adamant against her leaving, and if she ever finds out she_ did_ leave, she'll probably chain her to the floor.

I rack my brains for any way to bring that smile back. This proves unnecessary, however, as she lifts her head and lets out a long breath, before smirking at me.

"So?" she says in a teasing voice, "Eugene Fitzherbert, huh?"

I can't help but laugh a little. Stupid name. "Yeah, well..." I pause briefly. "I'll spare you the sob story of poor orphan Eugene Fitzherbert. It's a little bit, uh..." I wait for a moment, making sure to get all the emotion out of my eyes, before I look up at her and finish my sentence. "It's a little bit of a downer."

Once again, Rapunzel takes me by surprise. I expected her to apologize, then hurry and change the subject to something much happier. Instead, she scoots closer to me, then rests her elbows on her knees, and her chin in her hands, demonstrating that I have her full attention.

With another little laugh, I begin my narrative. "There was this book..." I become lost in my own story, explaining why I changed my name, why I took up a live of thievery, and why, even, my dream is what it is. Something I've never before told a single soul. I turn playfully serious. "You can't tell anyone about this, okay?" I say, willing her to agree with me. "It could ruin my whole reputation."

She giggles, a light, good-natured sound that warms me through. Then she looks at me slyly. "We wouldn't want that."

I grin. "Well, a fake reputation is all a man has," I quip, hoping she'll laugh.

To my great excitement, she does. I watch her for a moment, loving the way her whole face lights up with the action. Her eyes close for a moment, then, when she opens them, she smiles up at me. I feel myself smiling back, nearly losing myself within those enchanting emerald pools. Fortunately for me—or is it unfortunate?—Flynn parades in just in time, completely ruining the moment. I glance away and clear my throat uncomfortably.

"Well, I should, um... I should..." I stammer as I get to my feet. "I-I should get some more firewood," I announce lamely, then turn to do just that.

"Hey," her voice stops me.

Almost too eagerly, I whirl around to face her. She shrugs her shoulders, a soft smile gracing those impossibly pink lips of hers. Wait, what the f—

"For the record, I like Eugene Fitzherbert _way_ more than Flynn Rider."

I laugh softly, marveling at this strange, confusing, surprising, _incredible_ young woman. She's the happiest person I've ever met, with a penchant for singing and dancing, and she always seems to think of others. This reminds me of my now completely healed palm. Subconsciously, I brush my fingers along the unblemished skin, feeling a strange emotion.

"Well, then you'd be the first," I murmur, "but thank you."

Not wanting her to see how vulnerable I've become, I hurry to leave, scolding myself internally the whole way. The scolding soon turns into a heated battle between Flynn and Eugene, going something like this:

**Flynn**: What, are you stupid? Why are you letting your guard down around this girl? Just because she's cute doesn't mean she's innocent!

**Eugene**: I'm sorry, have you _met_ Rapunzel?

**Flynn**: Okay, fine, she's as naïve as they come, but seriously! Don't let her get in the way of the big master plan! Remember what that is? Show her the lanterns, get crown from her, then GET THE HECK OUTTA TOWN! Before the guards kill you!

**Eugene**: I don't know... I can't just leave her in that infernal tower, with that freak show of a mother.

**Flynn**: You haven't even met this woman, and you're judging her? You've only heard one side of the story, and frankly, it's a very biased version. You don't know what's true and what isn't. This whole thing could just be a big misunderstanding.

**Eugene**: Rapunzel wouldn't lie.

**Flynn**: How do you know? You only met her about ten hours ago!

**Eugene**: True, but I've got that gut instinct about people. I usually know who I can trust, and who I can't. Rapunzel practically _screams_ trust.

**Flynn**: And you practically scream _pathetic_! What do you think is going to happen, huh? That she'll follow you? That she'll help you steal and wreak havoc and then go with you to some remote island? Puh-LEASE! She isn't that kind of girl!

**Eugene**: Well, I know _that_! And I would never ask her to change who she is. But . . . well, maybe... maybe _I _could change.

WHOA.

Where did _that_ thought come from?

I stop dead in my tracks.

My breath comes in short, erratic spurts as my heart batters against my ribcage. I'm losing my mind. Thinking of changing for a _girl?_ What happened to my dignity? What happened to my sense of self? Where's the fearless Flynn Rider?

I'll tell you!

He's back in that damn tower.

Meanwhile, Eugene is falling head over heels for a certain young blonde...


	6. The Dance

I'm dead.

I am a dead man.

There is no way I'm going to make it out of this alive.

Right now, I'm trailing after Blondie, _and_ her ridiculously long hair, into the place where I am the ultimate persona non grata, and there's a substantial amount of money placed over my _head_. If anybody here recognizes me, they won't hesitate to turn me in for the reward money. Then the guards will happily imprison me, taunt me in my cell, and then...

_Gulp_.

I don't even want to _think_ about the _then_ part.

All I know is that I'm _dead_.

Rapunzel walks on ahead, blissfully unaware of my mental panic, taking in the sights and sounds of the village. No doubt, she's smiling widely at the spectacle before her, as if it were all just for her. Warmth seeps through my very soul at the thought of seeing that smile. I feel a similar expression start to creep across my face, but I stop it quickly, hoping no one noticed. Neither the horse or the frog have.

Chameleon, whatever!

Just then, I notice someone stepping on Rapunzel's hair. That can't be good. I pick up my pace, and begin gathering up her golden tresses, while she does the same, and we meet in the middle. She looks up at me with wide, anxious eyes, hoping I have an answer to her obvious problem. I frown and cast my eyes around us, hoping to find something. Then I spot four little girls braiding one another's hair. _Perfect_.

I whistle loudly, catching their attention, and, with a smirk, I hold up the massive amount of hair in my arms. They gasp in unison and run toward us, hands raised and eyes wide. Rapunzel catches on, then allows the girls to lead her over to a more roomy location, so they can get started. The girls dance and twirl and giggle as they loop the hair over and around, having the time of their lives. I grin to myself; this has to be the most amusing thing I've ever seen.

Something shiny catches my eye, and I turn my head just in time to see two guards walking by. I crouch down behind the wall I've been leaning against, hoping they didn't see me. They're not barking orders or calling my name, so I figure I'm good. I sigh in relief, then turn to watch the girls again.

My eyes widen as I discover they're already done... and she looks amazing. The end of the insanely thick braid just barely reaches her ankles, and it's adorned with flowers of all different sizes, shapes, and colors. Rapunzel smiles and twirls in place, thanking the girls for their work. Then the five of them _keep_ twirling. I smile as that same warmth spreads from my core to each of my limbs.

Suddenly, Max's head is impeding my vision. He's wearing a very suggestive smirk and waggling his eyebrows. _Oh, fudge_. I frown at him and push his head away from me, trying not to look at Rapunzel anymore.

It's not working very well.

Well, can you blame me? The girl practically glows with excitement and vivacity! It's kind of hard _not_ to look... to stare... to get lost in those eyes...

WHAT THE HECK?

Knock it off, Eugene!

I'm saved from my thoughts as something catches Rapunzel's eye. She grabs my hand—I'm definitely _not_ thinking about how good it feels to be holding it—and drags me along with her, giggling ecstatically at every little thing.

A cart full of paper flowers.

Some nearby jugglers and dancers.

The scent of bread.

I suddenly realize how completely famished I am. Since Rapunzel's been with me the entire time and I haven't seen her eat anything, she probably is too.

"How about some food?" I ask her.

She grins and bobs her head up and down. "That sounds great!"

I can't help but smile myself, and we move to stand in line, waiting for food. She stands behind me, and I'm all too aware of how close she is. Why is it affecting me _now_? She's been closer than this in the last twenty-four hours, yet for some reason, right now, I'm hyperaware of her proximity. Maybe I'm just on edge from being in such a large crowd. Yeah, that's it.

At long last, I reach the front of the line, and pay for as much as I can afford. With some bread and a slice of cheese in hand, I turn to offer some to Rapunzel. But she's not there. Before I can panic, I spot her.

Dancing in the middle of the square.

Her hair flies out around her, and she raises her arms above her head, eyes closed and a contented smile playing on her lips. Suddenly, her eyes open, and she dashes over to a young boy who is watching her. She takes his hand, guiding him to her previous position, and then the two keep dancing. Some people are forming a circle around them, watching in amusement. When Rapunzel notices, she is unfazed. In fact, she starts pulling _more_ people into her dance! What surprises me the most—though, at the same time, I'm not surprised at all—is that they _let_her.

Before long, nearly half the town is joining in the celebration, clapping and cheering and skipping around like little children. And of course, Rapunzel is leading the way, wearing the biggest smile of all.

Though I'm sure my own is pretty big, too.

Max comes up behind me then, and I lean against him, completely forgetting that he hates me and could probably just move away so that I fall flat on my back. It doesn't matter, though, because he doesn't.

Rapunzel looks my way then, gesturing for me to join the happy throng of people. Still smiling, I shake my head. Flynn Rider doesn't dance. It was bad enough that I had to dance _and_ sing in front of a band of thugs. But that was just so they wouldn't kill me. This is different. No one here is planning to murder me. Not that I know of, at least. There is absolutely _no way_ I'm going to go out there and—

Suddenly, I'm propelled forward with impressive force, and one of the villagers grabs my hand. Just before I'm whisked into the circle of merriment, I turn to glare at that stupid horse. He has the audacity to _laugh_.

_I'll get you for that later, Maxie._

I follow the patterns of the dance as best I can, mostly just trying not to step on any toes or do a face plant on the cobblestone. That would hurt. Eventually, though, I get into a sort of rhythm. I'm doing pretty good, actually. Dare I say it, I'm actually _enjoying_ myself. Not that I'd never admit it to anyone else I know. Then again... I probably wouldn't talk to anyone else I know _period_. They all want me dead.

Except Rapunzel.

Of their own accord, my eyes flit to the girl in question. We start dancing toward each other, and my pulse quickens at the thought of holding her in my arms. I may never live the teasing and humiliation down, but if I get a chance to dance with her, it might just be worth it. I hold out my hand as an offer, and she reaches for it—

Only to be stopped by a nearby man sweeping her away, just as an older woman does the same to me. Ugh. How is this a fair exchange? No offense to my partner, but she doesn't hold a candle to Rapunzel.

I glance up at her, and she just smiles, shrugging her shoulders in a way that said, "Maybe we'll get a chance later." I mirror her expression and nod. Later.

The dance allows me to change partners frequently, and I try my best to make my way over to Rapunzel, but just when I get close, someone else snatches me, or her, away, ruining my chances. I find myself simply watching her, practically ignoring whoever else I might be dancing with, hoping, praying that eventually, I'll get to dance with Rapunzel.

I try one last time, as she closes her eyes and spins, sans partner. I seize this last opportunity, simply dropping the hands of the girl I'd been with—I think she was about twelve years old... eurgh—and I don't stop moving until, at last, Rapunzel is in my arms. Her eyes fly open in pleasant surprise. Just then, the music stops. _Oh, perfect. Just my freakin' luck_. I don't want to let go of her. So I stare at her. Just brilliant. Perfect way to win a girl's heart. _Leer_ at her like she's a piece of meat.

However, she doesn't seem too perturbed by it. In fact, she seems to be rather preoccupied by something on my face.

The applause of the crowd surrounding us brings each of us crashing back to the present, and I reluctantly release her from my grasp. We smile at each other, and continue on our way through the village. Throughout the rest of the day, I can't keep my mind from returning to that moment, when I finally got to hold her. I wish I could have actually danced with her... or just kissed her right then and there.

Wait, _what?_

Oh, for the love of... I really _am_ a dead man.


	7. Cupcake

"Thank you, sir," I say, smiling at the baker from whom I've just bought two very delicious-looking chocolate cupcakes. I hand one to Rapunzel, and she eagerly takes a bite. It must be good, because it elicits a soft, sweet _Mmmmm_ from her lips, and her eyes flutter closed.

Crazy as it sounds... I find myself feeling jealous of the cupcake.

"That's wonderful!" she cries, once she's swallowed. I smile, having no response. She looks up at me, brows furrowed. "Aren't you going to eat yours?"

Oh, yeah, I have one too, don't I? "Oh... right." I take a small-ish bite, and I _hmm _my approval, licking the frosting from my lips. "Not bad," I say. "I'm partial to cream cheese frosting, though."

She giggles at this—was that funny?—and then takes another hearty bite. When she lowers the cupcake, I snort a laugh. Surprised, she looks up at me with wide eyes, downturned lips... and a small dab of frosting on her cheek.

"What? What's wrong?"

I pause for a moment, and point at the offending spot. "Frosting," I say simply.

Her face flushes a brilliant scarlet, and she attempts to wipe it away, missing it each time. Taking pity on her, I reach forward, and with a gentle brush of my index finger, I remove the frosting from her cheek. As soon as my skin comes in contact with hers, I could swear I saw her face burn an even brighter red—and I'm pretty sure my own is turning slightly pink. I show her the frosting, before bringing it to my lips and sucking it from my finger.

Suddenly, we hear the distinctive shout of a palace guard. I whirl around, and sure enough, two of them were headed straight for us. Without a second thought—my first and only coherent one being "_Hide!_"—I grab Rapunzel by the arm and lead her to a small nook at a nearby corner. The guards walk by, wholly oblivious.

I sigh, grinning absently at the close call. I turn to face Rapunzel again, who is also smiling. Just like before, I'm all too aware of the lack of distance between us. My smile fades, as does hers, and our eyes lock. Her eyes seem to get even wider; I didn't think that was possible! Before long, I find myself leaning forward, little by little, and my eyes flick down to her lips...

Until I feel something mushy and slightly wet pressed against the side of my face.

Her cupcake.

She lets out a high, childish laugh, clapping to herself at her triumph. "I got you!"

I scowl playfully at her. "Oh, you asked for it," I speak in a low growl, then I shove my own cupcake onto her nose. She squeals, stepping back until she hits the wall, and I trap her there. The slightest glimmer of Flynn Rider comes out, and a smirk graces my handsome features. What? I know I'm a good-looking guy. What's wrong with that? You stink.

I lean in, our faces inches apart, holding what little remains of my cupcake in my left hand, and holding her hands down with my right. She cringes, though she still wears a smile, and squeals, "Okay! Okay, I give! You won!"

Satisfied, I lower my hand, and release my grip on hers. Sighing again, she smiles up at me. She looks so blasted adorable, with frosting all over her nose, a cute grin playing on her lips, and those eyes... those eyes that had me mesmerized from the very start.

Good Lord, I am such a _sap_!

Oh well.

"We should probably get cleaned up," she suggests.

I start slightly, having fallen into a sort of trance. That seems to happen a lot when I'm with her. Everything else just sort of falls away into oblivion, and all I can concentrate on is _her_—her eyes, her lips, her very person. I've even forgotten how freaked I was by her hair! It's not something she asked for, she was born with it. And it's not like she uses it for selfish purposes. So far, the only times I've seen her use it are when we were in the cave and it was a matter of life and death, and when she was healing my hand. Selfless. That's definitely a word that can be used to describe Rapunzel. Selfless, caring, sweet... adorable... beautiful... perfect...

"Eugene? Are you okay?"

There I go again!

"Er... yeah, fine, just fine," I mutter unconvincingly. "Yeah, let's clean up."

I gulp, hoping silently that my face isn't red. It probably is. Wow, that is _so_ not manly. Ugh. See, this is why I've tried so hard to bury Eugene, because he's kind of a wimp.

Although... didn't Rapunzel say she liked Eugene better?

So maybe he's not so bad after all.


	8. New Dreams

A/N: NEW CHAPTER! :D I can't believe I didn't put this in the story in the first place! Such an adorable moment for Rapunzel and Eugene! Well, here it is now, and I hope you enjoy it!

* * *

><p>The water is calm as we glide across its surface, away from the kingdom. I feel a brief spasm of fear—I think I might have acquired a mild phobia of water, after we almost <em>drowned<em> yesterday—but do my best to ignore it, and continue to push the boat out into the open sea. Lake. Um. I'm not sure what it is, but it's water.

A noise behind me catches my attention, and I turn around to see Max standing at the dock. I smirk and reach down by my feet, picking up a bag of apples, which I bought earlier today.

"Hey, Max," I call him, and I toss the bag. As the apples spill out on the deck, he shoots me a suspicious look. "What?" I laugh. "I _bought_ them!" He gives a smile, and eagerly digs in, and I turn back around. My smirk widens, and I wait a few moments, before adding, "_Most_ of them."

Ha.

Told you I'd get you back, Maxie.

I look at Pascal, who's perched on my shoulder—and for once, he _isn't_ sticking his tongue in my ear—and he mirrors my smirk.

Rapunzel turns around, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Where are we going?"

"Well," I begin, holding a hand up for Pascal to crawl onto. "Best day of your life? I figure you should have a decent seat," I tell her, then I set Pascal down on the knob for the rope (A/N: Anybody know the official name for that thing? Because I sure as heck don't. Fail.)

By the time we reach the spot I've been aiming for, the sun has set, and the world has turned a deep, dark indigo. I smile briefly at Rapunzel, then we both rest our arms on the edge of the boat. After a moment, I hear her sigh.

"You okay?"

"I'm terrified," she whispers.

What? That doesn't make any sense. "Why?" I ask bluntly.

"I've been looking out a window for _eighteen years_," she says, then lifts her eyes to the palace looming ahead. "Dreaming about what it might feel like when those lights rise in the sky." She takes a deep breath, then goes on, "What if it's _not_ everything I dreamed it would be?"

I smile, despite the seriousness of her question. "It will be," I assure her.

She laughs quietly, then looks at me. "And what if it is? What do I do then?"

"Well, that's the good part, I guess," I say thoughtfully, then my smile returns. "You get to go find a new dream."

Rapunzel smiles gratefully, then we both look back at the palace. If only she could know just how true those words really are. With every passing minute, I find my old dream of owning a secluded island and living my life surrounded by riches becoming less and less appealing. And as my desire for _that_ dream wanes, I find myself more and more enticed by the new dream forming deep within my heart.

A dream that can be encompassed in a single name...

* * *

><p>AN: Do I even need to say that name? ;) Hope you enjoyed this new addition! Please leave a review!


	9. The Cell

There's not even a shadow of a doubt in my mind right now. I'm going to die.

But the strange thing is, I don't even really care about that.

I mean, it's not like I get all kinds of warm fuzzies thinking about the fact that within the next twenty-four hours, I'll no longer be alive. But... I've realized that there are far more important things than my own life. First and foremost: Rapunzel.

And I don't even know if she's okay.

Who's to say that those damn Stabbington Brothers didn't get her? God knows what they're doing with her right now. I shudder to think. Even if they didn't find her, she could have found her way into some other horrible situation. She only got a taste of what the world was like, and it was mostly the good side. But there's so much more to the world, a whole other, darker side, that shows itself when you least expect it.

In a sudden burst of rage, I let out a thunderous growl, and slam both my fists on the nearest stone wall. Of course, I'm instantly met with the throbbing pain that accompanies such a stupid, reckless action, and I rub my hands, wincing. Well done, Rider. Way to solve a problem.

For the first time in... I don't even know how many years... I actually want to _cry_. Yes, I'm admitting it this time. My eyes are even starting to sting a little, and my throat's tightening with uncontrollable emotion.

Why did I have to leave her?

I should have just left it alone, gotten us both far away from the Brothers as fast as possible. I bet she would have understood the rush, if I explained it all. Knowing her, she would have followed me, giving me her full trust, like always.

Now that trust is most likely broken.

Irreparable.

Even if I _do_ figure out a way to get out of here—fat chance—who's to say if she'll forgive me? If she'll even _speak_ to me?

That does it.

A single tear pushes its way through the inside corner of my left eye, and I blink it away, letting it roll down my face. The first tear I've cried since I was staying at the orphanage. The first time since then that I've actually allowed myself to _feel_.

I've had a lot of firsts in the last forty-eight hours. First glimmer of hope in finally achieving my "dream"—which now seems completely obsolete. First time meeting a girl with seventy feet of magical hair, that's for sure. First time singing in a pub with a couple dozen thugs. First time fighting with a frying pan. First time being _hit_ with a frying pan. First time telling someone my real name.

First time falling in love.

Yes, are you happy? I've admitted that, too! Would you like me to say it again?

I LOVE RAPUNZEL!

There.

But as true as that is, it doesn't exactly help the situation. Love, as powerful as it is, can't break through a stone wall and transport me to... wherever she is. It can't redeem me of years and years of stupidity. It can't fight off the Stabbingtons, or anyone else that might threaten her. All it does is... make me depressed.

Because I can't do anything about it.

Cue tear number two.

And number three.

Oh, hell, just let 'em all come out!

I suddenly find it incredibly difficult to remain standing. I lean my back against the wall I've just punched and slide down into a sitting position. Though I'm surprisingly okay with the fact that I'm currently _crying_ in a _cell_, I take great pains to make sure no one else is privy to that. I'd never hear the end of it. The last words I'd hear in this life would be a jibe about just how pitiful I am. Yeah, not so much. I'll pass on that humiliation, thanks.

After a few minutes, I've cried myself dry, and I wipe my eyes, getting to my feet again. My mind wanders back a few hours, to when Rapunzel and I were in the boat. I was _so close_. Just a few more inches, and I could have kissed her. And she wanted it too, I could tell. That was one of the happier moments of my life—knowing Rapunzel wanted me just as badly as I wanted her.

Well, so much for that.

And now, I'm about to do something that I've _never_ done. _Ever_.

I pray.

_God... if you're there... just... please let Rapunzel be okay. Do whatever you want with me. I know I've been a real dou—um, jerk... but please... spare her. Let me die, let me go through hell and then some, I don't care. Just keep her safe_.

And then I hear the jingle of keys, and a quiet laugh.

They're here for me.


	10. Death

Rapunzel.

The only coherent thought in my mind.

Find Rapunzel.

I'm only mildly surprised that Max remembers _exactly_ where the tower is. I couldn't have led him to it, having been more concerned with hiding than discerning my location at the time I discovered it. And even now, I can't tell you precisely where he's turned, jumped, and ducked.

All I can think about is _her_.

And pray she hasn't already left.

Or worse...

Okay, Eugene, think positive! She's going to be fine!

Max stops at the base of the tower, and I immediately hop off his back.

"Rapunzel!" I call, hoping against all hope that she's there. No answer. I decide to try one more time. I cup my hands around my mouth and shout, "Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

Once again, no answer. But I'm not ready to give up. I want to be _sure_ she's not up there, even if I have to climb to the window using only my own strength! After all, I've done it before, and I can do it again! I start to do just that, when I hear the squeaking of the shutters, and the familiar gold tresses cascade from it, landing at my feet. Grinning, I start to ascend. This is it! Everything's going to be okay!

At long last, I reach the top. "Rapunzel!" I exclaim, making my way through the window. "I thought I'd never see you again!" And I lift my eyes to look at her.

And find her chained to the floor and gagged.

Funny. I seem to recall thinking this would happen if her mother ever found out.

I hate irony.

She screams through the white cloth that covers her mouth (it sounds vaguely like my name) and I lift my foot to take a step toward her—

Until something sharp is shoved into my abdomen.

The pain spreads from the point of impact through every inch of my body. I groan and squeeze my eyes shut, trying helplessly to fight against it. I'm dimly aware of someone speaking. Another woman, probably her beast of a mother. If it weren't for the wound she'd inflicted, I'd be standing up and giving her a piece of my mind. But I can barely breathe, let alone move.

With each intake of oxygen, I can feel a little more life ebbing away from me. I know I don't have much time. I strain my eyes open and try to see Rapunzel one last time.

"...but if you let me save him," she says, her voice bordering on panic, "I will go with you."

WHAT? No! She can't! I won't let her do it! It's suicide!

"No, Rapunzel!" I wheeze.

Of course, she ignores me, and keeps talking. When I hear the words "I promise" escape her lips, I gasp inaudibly. _When I promise something, I _never _break that promise_. She's going to die in some other tower, God knows where.

"Just let me heal him," she insists.

I want to speak. I want to _scream_! She can't do this!

"Fine," her mother snaps, and unchains Rapunzel. But before she can get to me, that horrid woman pushes me against a nearby wall—probably intentionally hitting my wound and thus making me shriek in pain, that _bitch_—and chains _me_ to the floor.

Like I'm going anywhere.

"In case you get any ideas about following us," she hisses at me, then stands.

And then I see her.

"Eu-Eugene!" she cries, kneeling over me, eyes wide with fright. She brushes her hand against my face, and I start coughing. I think the knife must have punctured my lung. I can feel it filling up with... something that's not air. Each breath is a little more shallow, and my vision is starting to blur. Another painful spasm shakes my body, and I clutch the wound with my right hand, fighting for more time. I feel Rapunzel's hand cover my own, and she gasps. "I'm so sorry," she whispers.

For _what?_

What on earth does_ she_ have to be sorry about?

"Everything's going to be okay."

I open my eyes, struggling to see. I spot her shining, golden hair, as she tries to lay it across my abdomen, with the intent of healing me. _No!_

"No, Rapunzel."

She ignores me, and continues her attempts. "I promise. You have to trust me."

"No!" Ouch. That one took a lot out of me.

"Come on," she pleads with me. "Just . . . breathe."

"I can't let you do this!"

She turns her eyes to me; they're filled with inexplicable sorrow. "And I can't let you die," she says, her voice breaking with emotion.

It suddenly becomes clear to me: she's just as in love with me as I am with her. Part of me wants to take a moment and revel in this new discovery, to bask in the joy of knowing her heart is mine, just as my heart is hers. But I know that a moment is all I may have left.

"But... if you do this, _you_ will die," I huff.

"Hey," she cups her hand against my cheek, giving me a sad smile. "It's going to be all right," she whispers.

I can feel my strength fading. I'm almost out of time.

And I don't care anymore. I don't care if I die here in this godforsaken tower. It's worth it, if it means she's safe.

"Rapunzel," I murmur, catching her attention. I lift my hand and brush it against her cheek. "Wait." My hand moves into her hair, pulling her closer. I can see that she's expecting a kiss. And I wish I could give her that. I wish more than anything that there was enough time to do so. But there just isn't.

So, just as she closes her eyes, I wrap my hand firmly around her hair, and, with one last bout of strength, slice through it with a shard of her broken mirror. And then I collapse, and my eyes fall shut.

There's a commotion around me, and I hear the shrieking voice of her mother. She screams in fury and hatred and... despair. I don't know what's happening, but I'm not sure I have enough strength to even open my eyes. Not yet, anyway. If I'm going to do it, I want to see Rapunzel, not the hag that pretended to raise her.

After a while, the yelling stops, and I hear a faint thud. She must have fallen out the window. Good riddance.

I hear nothing but Rapunzel's ragged breathing for a few moments, then her arms pull me up. "No, no, no, no, no!" Her fingers brush my cheek. "Eugene!"

I give a slight cough, just to show her that I'm not gone yet, while I fight for the energy to lift my eyelids. It's not working very well. I can feel myself fading more and more quickly.

"No! Look at me! I'm right here!" Her voice becomes more frantic. "Don't go! Stay with me, Eugene!" Suddenly, my hand touches something soft, and she starts to sing her flower song. Finally, I'm able to open my eyes. She's holding my hand up to her cropped, now-chocolate-brown hair, and her eyes are swimming with tears.

"Hey," I whisper soothingly, hoping she'll stop, but she doesn't. She shakes her head furiously and keeps singing. "Rapunzel!"

She looks at me then. I can feel my own tears threatening as I realize that this is the last time I will see those beautiful eyes. That beautiful face. My life is slipping further away from me with every second. Briefly, my mind flits to the plans I'd had for us. I was hoping, after I'd dumped the stupid crown, to take her out of Corona, marry her in the first village we came to, and live a full life in complete bliss.

I guess that's not happening now. But that doesn't matter. What matters is she's alive. And she needs to know how much I care.

"You were my new dream," I breathe, knowing these will be my last words.

She laughs through a sob. "And you were mine."

I feel myself smiling softly, as I gaze into the endless emerald of her eyes. My life is officially complete. With one final exhale, I surrender to the oblivion of death.

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><p>AN: (sniffles) It's just so sad! :'( Please review!


	11. He's Alive!

Wow. It's _really_ dark.

Shouldn't I be seeing a light or something? Everyone always talks about how when you die, you're supposed to walk toward the light. Yeah, there's no light. Just pitch black. And how am I dead, anyway? What exactly happened to make me—

Rapunzel.

The last thing I remember seeing was Rapunzel bent over me. She was crying. Why was she crying? What had I done to make her so sad?

Oh yeah. I died.

Wait one bloody minute! I _died!_ So how am I having coherent thoughts? Well... slightly jumbled, but nonetheless, coherent.

Am... am I alive?

No. It couldn't be. There's just... there's no way... right?

I try, fruitlessly at first, to reopen my eyes. It takes a while, but eventually, I'm able to pry my eyelids open ever so slightly. I inhale deeply as I do, the action feeling strangely foreign.

Rapunzel. The last thing I remember, the first person I want to see.

"Rapunzel?" I croak.

My eyes focus then, and I see her, still hunched over me, looking hopefully at me. I hear her gasp. "Eugene?" she speaks my name softly, almost as if she doesn't dare believe what she's seeing is true. As I open my eyes a little further, I take in her expression, and I can tell that my assumption was correct.

Not going to lie, I'm a little confused myself about how I'm alive right now! How did that work? I could have sworn I died a few minutes ago! Maybe I didn't. Maybe it was just... yeah, I got nothing.

But it doesn't matter, because right now_, I'm alive!_

And Rapunzel is still doubtful.

Hmm, what can I say to make her believe I'm really here?

Something Flynn-like.

"Did I ever tell you I've got a thing for brunettes?"

Perfect.

In an instant, she smiles, and throws herself into my arms. It hurts a little, but I smile despite that, finally able to open my eyes all the way, and able to move. I wrap my arms firmly around her, turning my head slightly to breathe deep her intoxicating scent. It's a lovely mixture of citrus, fresh air, and... something else. Something uniquely Rapunzel. I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

Before I can place that last fragrance, she pulls away, still smiling. I want to kiss her so badly right then and there.

But of course, she just_has_to surprise me, like she always does.

She grabs me by the collar of my shirt, and kisses_me_!

At first, I'm stunned, completely shocked that she would do something like that. For a moment, Flynn is raging about how she's "stealing my thunder!" but then, Eugene comes in and says, "You're finally kissing her, and all you can think about is male supremacy? Good God, man, I thought you were better than that!"

Flynn? Not so much.

Eugene? Well, he's working on it.

Bye-bye, Flynn.

Hello, Rapunzel.

I smile to myself as I let my eyes close, and I return her kiss. Her lips are even softer than I imagined the many times I've thought about kissing her. See? I can be honest on occasion. I'm openly admitting that I've thought about it a lot!

Although, it's not like you don't know already.

After all, you are reading my thoughts at this very moment.

Creeper.

Far too soon for my liking, Rapunzel pulls away, staring directly at me. "You're all right!" she breathes. "You're here! You're not dead!"

"It would appear so," I chuckle. "But how?"

She frowns. "I'm not sure," she puzzles, but then smiles. "But I don't care!"

I let out a yelp as she tackles me to the floor once again, her arms constricting my airway. "Can't—breathe!"

Immediately, she leaps off me, apologizing profusely. I just smile at her and shrug one shoulder. Then, her expression falls, and she eyes me warily.

"Why did you leave me, Eugene?"

I sigh; I knew this question would come up. "I left to give the satchel back to the Stabbington Brothers, my 'partners in crime,' if you will." I give another hitch of the shoulders. "I realized that... there are more important things than money."

"Like?" she encourages me to go on.

With a smile, I look her straight in the eye, and whisper, "You."

Her eyes widen to the point where I'm afraid they're going to pop out of their sockets at any moment. "Me?"

I surprise her, and myself, with my gentleness as I brush her cheek with the backs of my fingers. "You," I repeat. "In the last two days, you've become the center of my universe, the one thing more precious than any jewel. I love you, Rapunzel."

Tears spill down her cheeks as she throws her arms around me once again. "I love you too, Eugene."

Oh, nothing—_nothing_—beats this moment!

Not even the time when I stole an entire box of jewelry from the robust wife of the Duke of Chancy, and she tried to waddle after me and ended up falling face first into a giant puddle of mud!

Although that was pretty great.

But this is better.

"There's something I need to tell you," she says suddenly, backing away again.

"What is it?"

She bites her lip, glancing up at me, then says, low and fast, "I'mthelostprincess."

Huh? "One more time, _slowly_."

Rapunzel takes a deep breath, and repeats, "I'm the lost princess."

I think I'm going to hurl.

Wait... no, I'm good.

But I am suddenly very dizzy.

Oh, crap.

_THUD._

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><p><em><em>A/N: Ha. ;) That's funny. Reviews, per favore!


	12. Happy Ending

A/N: Final Chapter!

* * *

><p>"Eugene! Eugene, wake up! Oh, please, Eugene, don't die on me again!"<p>

"I'm fine," I assure her, sitting up again.

She heaves a huge sigh of relief. "Don't scare me like that!"

I laugh. "I just passed out. No biggie." Then a thought strikes me. "But don't tell anyone else."

"I thought it was no biggie," she eyes me curiously.

"Well, health-wise, it's not. Embarrassment-wise, it's a huge deal. It's massive! So don't tell anyone."

Rapunzel rolls her eyes. "Oh, Eugene. You're such a worry-wart."

"Oho!" I laugh incredulously. "Who was the one freaking out a few moments ago, thinking I was dead!"

A lovely blush paints her cheeks. "That's beside the point!"

I chuckle softly and press a kiss to her flushed cheek. "Thank you for your concern, though," I murmur gently. Then, I remember what she said that brought about my lack of consciousness. With a serious face, I clear my throat. "So... lost princess, huh? How'd you figure that out?"

"Just... little clues," she begins. "Like... I was looking around at all the paintings in my room, and I kept seeing patterns. Well, one specific pattern." She then points to one of the murals that surround us. "Do you see it there?"

I frown, looking closely. "Nope."

Rapunzel gets up, and I suddenly feel cold without her beside me. But she's not far away, and there's no danger, so I force myself to ignore it. She places her hand on a specific spot on the wall. "The sun pattern, the one that's all over the kingdom."

"Ohhhhhhh," I drawl out, finally seeing it. But I'm still having a hard time making the connection. "What about it?"

She groans in exasperation, and I fight back a smirk. "I've been painting this symbol my whole life, without even knowing what it was! And then... well, I-I sort of, um..." She begins toying with her short hair. "I remembered something."

"Remembered what?"

"I... I remember seeing them. My parents. Smiling down at me. And there was a light above me, and it had the symbol on it." She shrugs. "That's how I know."

Wow.

Though I'm still a little puzzled as to how all these things go together, I have to admit, it makes sense. After all, the princess has been missing for eighteen years, and she just _happens_ to share a birthday with Rapunzel? And she said all along that she had a feeling the lanterns were meant for her. Lo and behold, they were!

I try, unsuccessfully, to stifle a laugh, as I recall a thought I'd had when I'd first approached this very tower. I'd wondered if this might be a tower like those in the tales I used to read, which hid a kidnapped princess. Hm. Who would've thought I was right all along?

It doesn't happen very often, and I don't anticipate its happening again.

"What's funny?" she asks.

I shake my head. "It's just... kind of ironic, I guess." She frowns, and I repeat my earlier action. "Never mind." I stand slowly. "So... what are you going to do now?"

She pauses, this apparently being the first time she's thought about it. After a few moments, she says, "I'm going back."

I was afraid of that. "Well," I sigh, "I'm sure Max will be happy to take you."

"Wait!" she gasps. "You're not coming with?"

"Rapunzel," I half-laugh, "I'm the most wanted guy there. I highly doubt that's going to change just because I happen to show up with the lost princess."

She frowns. "But... you found me. You'd be the one returning me to them. Surely that's enough to earn you full pardon."

"It might be... but it might not."

"Please," she implores me, closing the distance between us and putting a hand on my face. "For me," she adds, her eyes wide and hopeful.

I feel myself caving. "Fine."

She grins and claps her hands while jumping up and down. "Yay!"

With a playful scowl, I mumble, "Cheater."

She simply smirks at me. "No, smart. Now, let's go!"

Using her now-chopped-off hair, we descend from the tower. Of course, Max is still waiting, and he lets out an elated neigh, before cantering over to us. Rapunzel scratches him behind the ear, while telling him her new discovery. He doesn't seem too surprised. Weird. Oh well, not important.

"Let's get going," I say, trying to disguise the anxiety in my voice.

Rapunzel bobs her head eagerly, and I help her climb onto Max's back. The moment I mount behind her, Max takes off, barely giving me time to take his reins. Within a few minutes, we arrive at the castle.

A guard approaches us, glaring at me. "Rider! Is that you?"

I take a small step back, my thief senses kicking in. It turns out to be unnecessary, though, as Rapunzel steps forward, holding her head high. "I'm Rapunzel, and I am the lost princess. I'd like to see my parents."

At first, the guard looks dubious. But as he opens his mouth to speak—probably intending to insult or deny her—he pauses. His eyes narrow, then grow wide in disbelief, as his already open mouth goes slack in an expression of utmost shock. I know the feeling. Through panted breaths, he says, "Wait here," then turns on his heel and darts into the castle. Rapunzel and I share a look.

"That was weird," I say in a low voice.

"Do you think he believes me?" she asks timidly.

I smile. "If he doesn't, I'll make him believe."

She lifts an eyebrow. "Eugene," she scolds, "don't hit him."

"Who said anything about hitting him?"

"Don't threaten him, either."

I heave a mock sigh, then mumble, "You're no fun."

She grins. "You'll get over it."

We laugh for a few moments, then her face grows serious. Without a word, she walks to the edge of the veranda, looking out over the kingdom. I frown, feeling more than my fair share of concern. "Rapunzel? What's wrong?" I ask.

Rapunzel sighs. "What if they don't... like me?"

She's kidding, right? Placing a finger under her chin, I turn her face toward me, and she gazes up at me with those big, beautiful eyes of hers. I smile. "Not possible."

A grateful smile dons her lovely features, and she stands on her toes to kiss me. I let my lips linger for a moment, then she pulls away and takes my hand. "Thank you for coming, Eugene," she whispers.

The door opens, catching our attention. I recognize the two people as the King and Queen—no one else would be dressed so finely. However, as I looked more closely, I noticed the resemblance I should have seen all along. Rapunzel is the spitting image of her mother, right down to the button nose and big green eyes.

My focus shifts from the family's physical traits to the reunion now taking place. As the Queen takes tiny steps toward Rapunzel, she mirrors the movement. The look on Her Majesty's face is one of wonder and amazement, very similar to the expression Rapunzel wears almost everywhere she goes. In fact, I'm sure that she's wearing that expression right now, though I can't see for sure.

The two women stop as they come within arm's reach of each other, and the Queen lifts a hand to Rapunzel's face. The wonder fades, and is replaced with raw emotion and indescribable happiness. After a moment, she pulls Rapunzel into a tight hug. I notice the King then, who is standing just a few feet away. With a quiet laugh, he joins the hug, and the three of them sink to their knees, overcome with sheer joy.

I smile at the scene, and I feel my own little bubble of happiness at knowing I had some part in bringing it about. Granted, all I did was accidently stumble across a tower and invade an innocent girl's privacy, but hey, still counts, right?

_Right?_

You suck.

The Queen opens her eyes then, and with a smile, stretches her hand toward me. I take it, expecting her to shake it, a simple, casual thanks for bringing back her baby girl. However, that's _not_ the case. Before I know it, I'm being pulled to the ground, and enveloped in this group hug, and I'm showered with thanks.

Discreetly, Rapunzel turns to me, one eyebrow lifted in a smug expression. I roll my eyes, but grin in return. Turns out she was right.

* * *

><p>"Well," I smile, "you can imagine what happened next."<p>

My audience—Lily and Daphne, two orphans at the local orphanage—grin widely as I reach the close of my story. They'd insisted on knowing how Rapunzel and I met, so I gave them what they asked for. Every microscopic detail.

"The kingdom rejoiced, for their lost princess had returned. The party lasted an entire week, and honestly, I don't remember most of it." Lily and Daphne giggled at my insinuation. Their giggles increase as I tell them about the numerous thugs who received their dreams, and about the other happy endings that took place. But there is one more happy ending to address.

"I know what the big question is," I smirk. "Did Rapunzel and I ever get married?" Of course, they already know the answer to that, as I'm now _Prince_ Eugene, but I still enjoy milking this part of the story. "Well, I'm pleased to tell you, that after years and years of asking, and asking, and _asking_... I finally said yes."

"Eugene!"

I cringe slightly, and the girls giggle even more. I turn to see the woman in question standing in the doorway of the orphanage. Her crown glints in the fading sunlight, and I note the basket hanging from her arm, filled with paints. That took less time than I thought it would. I guess people are more willing to help the princess find what she needs than just your everyday Joe Schmoe. Go figure.

"All right," I concede, as she moves to stand beside me, "I asked _her_."

She smiles. "And we're living happily ever after."

I look at her, certain my own happiness is radiating from me like the rays from the sun. "Yes, we are."

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><p>AN: The end! Don't forget to review!


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